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Alistair was watering his lawn, enjoying the warmth of the summer afternoon.
Suddenly he heard a far too familiar noise. He turned immediately and there it was: the TARDIS, materialising on Doris's favourite roses.
Just what I need — he thought — if the old chap is here it means hell's about to break loose and on top of that my wife will be furious with me.
The man who emerged from the blue box was tall and thin, with grey hair and thick eybrows. His haircut and the velvet jacket were something the Brigadier had associated with his best friend for a long time, despite his frequent and eccentric changes of style. He had never seen this man before, not with this face, but he'd know him anywhere.
'Doctor!', he greeted him. 'Would you mind getting your ship off my flowerbed?'
The Doctor looked around for a moment. He seemed confused and looked at Alistair for a few seconds. Like he had seen a ghost, Alistair thought.
'Doctor,' he asked, 'are you alright? It's you, isn't it, you regenerated again?'.
The Doctor stared at him with his deep, impressively old eyes for another moment, then he smiled, and the old, confused man suddenly looked young and energetic.
It was so typical of him.
'Brigadier!', he exclaimed. 'What are you doing here?'.
'Well, Doctor,' he replied, rising an eyebrow, 'this happens to be my house'.
'Is it?', he asked, turning his head around like a very thin and jumpy owl. 'Oh, YES!', he suddenly exclaimed, 'yes, of course, I've been here before! Sorry, old chap, I wasn't planning to land at your place,' he noticed the crushed flowers under his TARDIS, 'and, specifically, not on your flowerbed, either. Nor on anyone else's, for the record'.
'Well, move that thing before Doris comes back and kills us both, then you can get inside for a glass of brandy'.
*
'So,' the Brigadier said, as he poured the drinks for himself and the Doctor, 'you changed again. Last time I saw you, you had curly hair and you were wearing the most ridiculous coat'.
'A huge mistake,' commented the Doctor, as he paced the small, cozy living-room.
'The coat?', asked the Brigadier with a small grin.
'That regeneration,' replied the Doctor, matter-of-factly. He stopped in front of a shelf, where a picture of a young blonde woman and a red-headed teenager was displayed.
'That's my daughter, Kate,' said Alistair proudly, as he noticed what his friend was observing, 'and my grandson, Gordon'.
The Doctor had recognised Kate, of course. She looked young and innocent, so different from the fierce, battle-scarred woman he had last met, more than fifteen years later in her timeline. He remembered their first meeting: her idealism and sense of humour. For him, that meeting had happened centuries ago — billions of years, technically — while for her, at the time of the Zygon incident, only a few years had passed, but they had both changed so much: they had become bitter, they had made mistakes, lost battles and lost people.
She had apologised to him for shooting in self-defence. She had apologised for her mistakes and she had closed that box. Then he had wiped her memory, because he didn't trust her. How ironic...
'Is everything alright, Doctor?', the Brigadier asked, a hint of worry in his voice. He was used to his friend's eccentric behaviour, but he could tell something was wrong.
The Doctor sighed and took his seat next to Alistair. He looked almost... ashamed?
'I did something very stupid on Gallifrey,' he said, not daring to look at his friend. He took a sip of his drink.
'That sounds like you,' said Alistair, quite matter-of-factly, in an attempt to cheer his friend up. 'I think the new UNIT chaps could benefit enormously from another exile on Earth'.
'No wonder!', replied the Doctor, with a derisory snort. 'You lot are lost without me!'.
The Brigadier chuckled briefly, but kept his piercing eyes on his long-time friend, painfully aware of how sad and worried he looked. It was one of the rare moments when he actually seemed old. Was it guilt he could see on his face? Was it regret? Sorrow? Anger? He remembered a similar expression on a different face: the curly-haired Doctor in the weird coat mourning poor Claire.
'You know, Doctor,' he said, 'whatever happens, UNIT will always be your home and there will always be a place for you. UNIT looks after its own'.
He put a comforting hand on the Doctor's shoulder.
His friend was silent for a few long moments.
'I did a very bad thing, Brigadier,' he finally said, still avoiding eye contact.
'Do you want to talk about it?'.
'You'd be ashamed of me,' the Time Lord replied.
'More than you have been of me several times?', Alistair asked. He thought about Wenley Moor. He didn't think the Doctor had ever forgiven him.
The Doctor turned to face him. 'I've been many things — angry, frustrated... — but never, ever, ashamed of you, Brigadier'.
'That is flattering, Doctor. It means a lot coming from you,' Alistair replied. He wasn't used to the Doctor saying things like that, he was usually more prone to criticism, although he had never doubted of the depth of their friendship.
'When I said angry,' the Doctor specified, 'I meant very, very angry, by the way'.
'I know'.
'Like in extremely furious and...', he started to add.
'Yes, I got the point,' the Brigadier cut him off. 'Now, will you tell me what happened?'.
The Time Lord finished his drink before speaking. 'I shot a man'.
'I'm sorry,' he said, and he truly was. He couldn't quite picture the Doctor actually shooting someone. Threatening or even physically fighting someone was one thing, but pulling the trigger was never the Doctor's job, it was his, and so was all the blame. 'Is he... dead?'
'No,' he said, 'he is a Time Lord, he regenerated. Well, he's a she, now, actually. I told myself that made a difference, but I lied. I took one of his lives. I knew what I was doing but I did it anyway'.
The Brigadier decided wasn't sure he had grasped the whole "she" thing, but he decided it was better to avoid the topic, so he simply asked, 'Why?'.
'Does it matter?', the Doctor retorted.
'It could. You are not one to use violence if you are not forced to'.
The Doctor sighed, then rose from his seat and started pacing the room again.
'He was a good man,' he said, 'a Time War veteran. He had taken my side against a very powerful man. God, he exiled Rassilon and made me Lord President! And he was unarmed!'
Alistair didn't have the faintest idea of what and who his friend was talking about, but he even doubted that speech was for him.
'But sure you must have had a reason,' he said, trying to comfort the Doctor and also unable to believe the Time Lord didn't have a valid motive.
The Doctor's eyes became sadder and somehow vacant, like he was searching for something without knowing where to look. 'I had lost someone and I was upset,' he answered, 'I was selfish. I was ready to put the universe at risk for her'.
'You must have loved her,' the Brigadier said, sympathetically.
'I guess so,' the Doctor said, with that lost, enigmatic look still in his eyes, 'but I broke my promise, I broke my very code, I got to decide whose life was more important'.
'People can do anything for those they care about,' the Brigadier replied. 'It's only human'.
'I'm not human,' was his friend's simple answer.
The Brigadier rose to face him. 'Maybe not, but I always thought you were the greatest man I have ever known'.
'I never wanted to be a great man. I just used to hope I could be a good one,' whispered the Doctor.
'You are a good man, Doctor,' replied the Brigadier, 'and when good men do something wrong it's usually because they were trying too hard to be right'.
'Stop trying to make me feel better,' snapped the Doctor, in an irritated tone.
'Then why have you come here?', asked Alistair, calmly.
'I didn't,' the Doctor said. 'The TARDIS brought me here'.
'Well, maybe it thought you needed it,' the Brigadier considered. 'I certainly do'. It hurt him to see his friends so broken. He was far from being able to be his friend's moral support, but he hoped he could comfort him, somehow. Damn, he would pull the trigger in his place just to take away his guilt.
'The TARDIS is a she,' the Doctor pointed out, almost offended.
'Well, women know best,' observed Alistair.
'All of time and space and she brought me to you,' the Doctor said, more to himself than to Alistair, turning to face the window from which the TARDIS was visible, 'my dearest friend. I think she does know best, after all'.
The Brigadier smiled at those words and put a hand on the Time Lord's shoulder. They stood together, side by side, looking out of the window into the sunlit garden. The TARDIS looked out of place in the Lethbridge-Stewarts' well-tended garden, but somehow it felt exactly in the right spot, precisely where it needed to be.
'Can I tell you one thing, then?', asked the Brigadier.
The Doctor nodded.
'Mistakes make us grow more than victories,' he continued. 'The things you feel guilty for, those that keep you up at night, that's what pushes you to do better. Accept the consequences of what you have done, if there's any, but don't be too hard on yourself. As I told you last time, the universe owes you a great deal'.
'When did you become so wise, Brigadier?', asked The Doctor, in a mixture of amusement, pride and astonishment.
'I suppose it all started in the London underground in 1968,' said Alistair, his fair eyes twinkling with emotion and sunlight. 'You changed me, you know? Now I often try to keep an eye on UNIT, make sure the chaps don't blow up too many things, the whole "science before guns" idea. Can you believe that?'.
Science leads — the Doctor thought. He wished he could tell him about Kate, about all the changes she would make in his name.
'Actually, I do,' he said.
*
'Are you sure you don't want to stay for dinner? Doris would be happy,' Alistair asked, as he walked towards the TARDIS with his friend.
They had spent the afternoon together, talking about old times. The Doctor even managed to laugh.
'That your uninvited shape-shifting alien friend, who just destroyed her favourite flowerbed, stays for dinner?', replied the Time Lord.
'You have a point,' said the Brigadier.
'Tell her I said hi, and I am sorry for the flowers,' the Doctor said, extracting the TARDIS key from his pocket.
'I will'.
The Time Lord turned the key and opened the door, revealing the bigger on the inside console room. The Brigadier noticed it was different than the last time he had been there. The Doctor looked repeatedly at him and at the time machine, like he was pondering an idea.
'Do you want to come with me?', he finally asked.
'What?', his friend asked back.
'Just a quick trip, one more adventure, you and me,' proposed the Time Lord, suddenly excited like a child.
'Thanks for the offer, Doctor, but I'm afraid I have to decline,' Alistair answered. 'I'm getting older and also I don't want to put my life at risk if I can avoid it, I've had enough excitement in my own time and space. Now that I have Kate and Doris back in my life, I want to spend every moment I can with them. I cannot risk dying on some distant planet or disappearing for months because you set the wrong coordinates'.
'Of course, I understand,' the Doctor said. He did understand, he truly did, but a part of him was deeply hurt. He didn't even know if he would ever see Alistair again, after all. It felt like a goodbye, a goodbye he couldn't say.
'But, please, do come here whenever you want,' Alistair said. 'We'll have a drink and chat about the old days,' they shared a smile. 'Just visit me... if you find the time'.
The Doctor did not answer and just smiled to his old friend. Then they shook hands, before the Doctor entered his blue box and dematerialised.
Alone in his garden, as the sun reddened and tree shadows grew longer, Alistair was nearly tempted to shout "Doctor, come back here at once!" at the empty space in front of him.